Fishing
by Fyrearth
Summary: England decides to teach little America and Canada how to fish. Things go downhill from there... One-shot!


Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia nor will I ever. Sad day.

…

It had been awhile since Arthur had visited the twins and even longer since the three of them had been together. The English nation hummed absently to himself as he followed the two rambunctious boys through the woods to the stream. It was that time of year when spring warmed to summer and trees were losing their blooms in favor of leaves.

This was one of his favorite times of year. The sailing was usually favorable and it was never too hot or too cold.

"Dad, hurry up!" Alfred yelled several yards ahead. Matthew was standing next to him hugging his bear, Kumajirou, tightly.

Arthur shook his head at the boy's impatience. "The fish aren't going anywhere lad." He had decided to take the two fishing today. Hopefully, the blue-eyed colony would learn a little patience from the activity; Matthew was usually quiet, so Arthur had no worries about the violet-eyed brother.

When they finally reached the stream, Arthur laid out the poles and line evaluating the spot. To his bewilderment, both boys were removing their shoes and stockings. Alfred rolled up his breeches and stepped carefully into the river shivering once the water touched his skin.

"Careful Mattie, it's still cold."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "It won't warm up until the middle of summer, Al." The Canadian replied.

"Just what are two doing?" the English nation asked as Matthew joined his brother.

The twins shared a look.

"You said we were going fishing today," Alfred replied.

"Yes, and if you go into the water like that you'll scare all the fish away."

"But how else are we supposed to catch the fish?" Matthew asked looking to the American.

Alfred shrugged and waded out to the middle placing his feet carefully so he wouldn't splash. He stood there, as still as a statue, for a few minutes before striking quick as a snake. The boy held his arms up struggling to maintain his hold on a silver fish. Smiling, he threw his catch to shore.

England watched horrified. He had obviously been neglecting the boys' education. "Alfred Kirkland, come back here now! You too Matthew."

Recognizing the tone, the twins returned quickly to dry land. They didn't understand what they had done wrong, but they knew their guardian wasn't happy.

"That is not the proper way to go fishing."

"But it's what we've always done," Alfred explained.

"Maybe we're supposed to use a spear?" Matthew whispered. They had seen some of their mother's people use spears to fish before.

"Absolutely not!" Arthur rejected the idea. "No colony of mine will use such barbaric methods. What do you think I brought the poles for?"

The twins shared another look.

"To carry the fish?" Alfred tried.

Arthur sighed. "No. Let me show you." He picked up a pole, tied a hook to the end of the line and baited the hook. He stepped up to the water's edge and cast the line. The boys watched the whole thing perplexed.

"How is that goin' to catch fish?" Alfred asked.

"It's 'going to' and the fish will try to eat the bait. When they do, they'll be caught by the hook and I'll reel it in." Arthur sat on the grass leaning his back against a tree.

The twins each grabbed a pole and copied their guardian. For a few minutes there was silence as they waited for the fish to bite. Matthew's bear let out a sigh flopping down beside his master.

"The bear's right," Alfred complained. "This is boring. I could've caught a dozen fish by now."

"It's because mae little brother never uses the righ' bait." A familiar brogue responded.

"Uncle Scott!" both boys exclaimed going to meet their uncle. Per usual, the redhead was smoking. He hugged Matthew as he ruffled Alfred's hair.

Arthur grimaced. "What do you want bloody git?"

Scott smirked. "I came ta visit mae nephews."

"Uncle Scott!" Alfred commanded his attention holding up the fish from earlier. "Look at the fish I caught. I didn't use Dad's way."

"We've usually caught a lot more fish by now," Matthew piped up.

"Have ye now? I wouldn't mind fish for dinner…if 'e doesn't cook it that is." Scott added tilting his head towards the younger Kirkland brother.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Arthur cursed throwing down his pole. "My cooking is perfectly fine! Much better than anything from _your_ home I may add."

"Aye? I seem to remember _mine_ being edible."

As the two adult nations argued, the twins snuck back into the water to fish leaving the poles behind. They had each caught two fish before either nation noticed.

"Alfred, Matthew!" Arthur called.

The twins returned to shore picking up their catch as they rejoined their guardian and uncle.

"Look, we caught enough for dinner tonight." Alfred said holding up a fish in either hand. Matthew was similarly loaded down; Kumajirou had one of Matthew's fish in his mouth.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let's go back to the house," he sighed, defeated. He thought he had civilized the two, but some of the primitive traits still remained. He would just have to try harder to erase those barbaric tendencies, just like how he was working to fully Anglicize Canada. Matthew still spoke French when he got upset.

The Brit retrieved the forgotten fishing poles as Scott took the fish from the boys. Matthew fought with his bear to give up the fish, but Kumajirou simply clamped down harder on his prize. Alfred tried to help claiming he was the "hero" and would rescue his twin's catch.

The three became locked in a tug-of-war that was taking them perilously close to the water's edge. Scott stood back knowing what was about to happen. Arthur tried to save them.

"Lads, let him have it. We have enough for our own supper."

"No," Alfred replied, "we almost ha-agh!"

Kumajirou had abruptly shaken his head and the twins lost their grip on the still slippery fish. Alfred slipped in the mud and flung out his hand to catch himself. Instead, he grabbed Matthew's arm and both boys splashed into the stream. The violet-eyed boy threw his twin a dirty look as they climbed out; they were soaked through and covered in mud.

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly getting mud in his hair. "Oops."

Scott laughed and Arthur couldn't help but smile. There was a reason the normally grumpy nation enjoyed coming to the New World and that reason was now in sore need of a bath.

The four trudged back to the house Arthur had built for Alfred. It was a fair-sized two-story structure with a covered porch and neatly tended garden resting near the heart of the first English colony in America—Virginia.

Arthur also owned a townhome in Boston, but Alfred much preferred his home here.

The English nation immediately sent the two colonies for a bath. The Scot took the fish back to the kitchen and began preparing their meal. Arthur prepared tea and biscuits fishing out a new jar of Alfred's favorite jam; the boy ate almost incessantly.

It wasn't long before the elder nations could hear the younger bounding down the stairs.

"How often have I told you not to run in the house?" Arthur asked as they emerged, clean, in the kitchen.

Matthew had the decency to look apologetic.

Alfred only shrugged and replied, "A lot."

"Then don't you think you should start listening?" Arthur responded irritably.

The American smiled, then noticed the food laid out at the table. "I'm starving!"

Scott chuckled. "Ye see? The lad's always hungry because 'e cain't eat your cooking."

"Shut up git!" The Brit shot back. He turned back to the boys; there was something missing. "Matthew, where's your bear?" England's newest colony was never without the animal.

Alfred snorted into his tea remembering something humorous. Matthew smiled and pointed to the hall. Arthur peeked around the corner, afraid the bear had been ordered to attack him as a prank. He found the polar bear rolling around the floor trying to remove an overly large lavender bow from around his neck. The fish was nearby; the bow must've been making it hard to eat.

Taking pity on the poor animal, Arthur removed the fabric. Kumajirou immediately attacked his meal ignoring his helper.

"You're welcome," said Arthur to the ungrateful bear. He returned to the kitchen laying the cloth piece in front of the Canadian. "You shouldn't torture him because he stole your fish," the elder reprimanded his wards.

"But Dad," Alfred spoke up for his brother, "Francis told us you use to torture people all the time because they took something from you, especially Antonio."

_Damn that frog!_ Arthur thought. It was true the Spanish nation and he had fought quite a bit during their pirating days, but that perverted Frenchman didn't have to tell those stories to England's colonies.

"That was a long time ago," the Brit responded.

Matthew scrunched up his face as he thought. "Papa said it was only…"

"It doesn't matter now," Arthur cut him off. "Gentlemen don't torture others."

Scotland snorted moving the cooked fish to plates to serve.

The Englishman threw his brother a pointed look.

Kumajirou entered the dining area. Matthew immediately took the bear into his lap and gave him a jam covered biscuit in apology. Kumajirou licked up the sweet substance eyeing the jar for more.

"Hey, that's my jam!" Alfred complained reaching for the container.

Kumajirou moved at the same time; Matthew tried to stop him, but it was too late. Alfred's hand and the bear's paw hit the jar, but neither grabbed it. Instead, the entire thing slid across the table dumping its contents into Arthur's lap before he could move.

The boys froze waiting for the explosion that was sure to happen. The bear, on the other hand, lumbered over and licked off a spot of jam that had splashed onto the English nation's face.

Arthur, who had been about to yell at the two, deflated. He pushed Kumajirou away and excused himself to change.

He exited to his brother's guffaws.

…

A/N: This is my first attempt at Hetalia fanfiction and I hoped you enjoyed this little one-shot. It was a prompt from a friend who I'm trying to introduce to the series, but she claims she doesn't need any more obsessions (it's not an obsession…maybe…). I'm working on a longer story in the Hetalia verse which I will hopefully start posting soon.

Anyways, reviews and critiques are always appreciated. Trolls will be slain with Antonio's axe.


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